The Path to Freedom
by Fatebringer-16
Summary: Orcs vs. Humans: Set right before the beginning of Warcraft III. Thrall has started the revolt, and now his troops must fight for their lives, their families, and their freedom.


The wind whistled, rustling the grass, as the moon above shown brightly, a display Elune would be proud of.

"Sir, reporting, sir!" The footman shouted as he came to a stop in front of his superior who was standing outside of his own personal tent.

This was the north guard post; they maintained many of the defenses for the Orc containment camps. Though of late, things had grown lax, and many nights the Captain spent nestled in his warm bed, instead of donning armor for his people.

But why? Why not enjoy himself? The Orcs had been silent for so long now, many of the human kingdoms thought of them as animals to see in their natural habitat. The Captain was no exception to this rule either. On many an occasion he himself had dropped remarks about how the Orcs should be rooted out like dogs and executed in a grand public display.

"What is it now, Herbert?" The Captain sighed, his patience growing razor thin.

"S-sir... I-I..."

"Out with it, Son!"

"I was out patrolling where you told me to be and...And I saw an Orc!" he shouted.

"Well, that is nothing special, after all, we are here to watch them, you know..." the Captain grinned, betraying his opinion of this one's stupidity.

"S-sir, no, Sir. This one had an axe. And he chased me!"

The Captain raised an eyebrow, looking at the young, frightened lad. "You know what punishments are available for new members of the guard that make up stories to gain the attention of a supervisor?"

"N-no, sir." he stammered. "B-but I'm not m-making t-this u-u-up!"

The Captain's eyebrows narrowed now, showing immediate displeasure. "Alright, I will send Valorn with you to check it out, if there are any of the green-skinned bastards out there that have gotten a hold of weapons, I give permission to you to exterminate them on sight. Do I make myself clear?"

"Q-quite!"

"Begone."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Lok-tar, Zugrug." The young Orc saluted as he approached his long-time friend. "Word comes from Thrall himself: attack quickly, take as many hostages as possible, and whatever you do, remember that freedom is just beyond those walls."

Zugrug looked out at the walls that had housed him for so long. He stood well over six feet tall now and his braids of hair reached down his back. He had changed in the time he spent inside these walls, and now, more than ever he wanted to be free. He knew exactly what he wanted his freedom for as well.

He planned to follow Thrall until their fearless leader set up some sort of permanent stronghold, and then he could break off, maybe start his own Clan. The desire was not one of power though, for he had that in his massive forearms, but a desire to charge headlong into battle with his brethren.

Though, in complete honesty, he had never before even held an axe, and here he was, on the edge of the encampment with about a dozen Orcs, about to lead them into a desperate battle for freedom.

His hands trembled, but he controlled it, ignoring his fear, and replacing it with anger. He knew well of this camp and that it was lead by Captain Goshren. Captain Goshren had personally whipped him many times when the Orc was younger, and he also knew the Captain had a tendency to take the most attractive Orc women into his bed, in an effort to further their torment.

Zugrug had lost his sister.

He would feel no remorse for whatever he did on the field of battle.

"Men, today we fight for our honor." he turned and addressed his troops. "We fight for the glory that our elders once held. We fight for Thrall, who is our beacon of light in this ever-darkening hour! He will lead us to our freedom, though tonight, I will lead you to this battle… and back from it."

He paced, looking to his men. "I will not lie. There is a chance none of us will survive, there is a chance some of us could be tortured until we beg for death, but there is also a chance that we will taste the sweet mountain air after we escape. There is a chance that we will have the freedom to live our lives as they should be: Ours!"

"For the Horde!"

The frightened footman walked forward. "Aren't you supposed to be with me?" He asked his escort.

"I'll be right behind you." the man sighed. He had been woken up for this; at least he was going to take his time and attempt to scare the newbie into resigning from his post in the morning.

"Orc!" the new recruit screamed.

"Silly boy, there—"

Twelve Orcs rose from behind the nearby hill and charged on, their chain mail suits of stolen and resized armor clinked loudly as they ran.

"Herbert, you damned fool!" he screamed as he turned and ran full on back for the encampment.

Herbert turned to watch his comrade. The younger man started to shout, started to call out in fear, but an arrow whistled past his head, sinking into the back of the fleeing guard's neck and bringing him to the ground with a thud.

Herbert's head swung back around quickly as his hand went for his father's scabbard. It was too late though, and the blunt end of an axe met his head, sending him to the ground unconscious.

Zugrug looked down to the young man who, he noticed, was still breathing.

"Hostage number one." he remarked with a reassuring grin.

The Orcs rushed forward, coming to the palisade with a haste that caught all the defenders off guard.

Zugrug leapt as he reached the wooden poles that had been set out to impale attackers. He tumbled over them, and rolled down, coming to a stop with his axe in front of him. He jumped to his feet quickly then and moved towards the closest two guards who had just started to draw their blades in shock.

He heard a call from off to the side. "The Orcs are invading! To arms, to arms, to—" But it was cut off by a gurgle as the shouter quickly received a hammer to the temple.

Zugrug swung his mighty axe upwards, locking blows with the quicker of the two to draw steel. The other moved fast, hoping to stab the Orc before he could make another swing. Zugrug pushed forward, catching the man in the stomach with the end of his axe. He made haste and hopped backwards as the first one came at him again, swinging with precision.

The first guard thrust the point of his sword forward, forcing Zugrug to inhale sharply as he scooted his midsection backwards. He spun then, ducking low as the second footman swung for where his neck should have been. As he finished his spin, his embedded the axe blade deep in the second guard's shoulder, causing him to scream loudly.

The second guardsmen fell, as the first swung with anger, catching the Orc in the arm before he could pull his axe free. Blood poured freely from the gash on his arm as Zugrug kicked out, his foot striking the man square in the crotch and bringing him down to his knees where he was promptly finished off by a handle bash to the head.

No sooner than that skirmish was over, Zugrug saw another man charging full on towards him, carrying a large spear. Thinking fast, the Orc pulled free the full plate helm from the second guard and held it out, waiting for his chance.

Just as the spearman reached him, Zugrug thrust out the helmet, catching the tip of the weapon in its bowl-like shape and diverting the danger away from him. He directed the helmet to his side, and received the charging man with his fist planted firmly at the human's jaw.

"Hostage number three." he mumbled as he hefted the spear.

As he took time to take note of his surroundings, he noticed roughly six Orc's remaining, to the dwindling number of four humans, none of which were the Captain, and also, none of which were impeding his journey to the Captain's tent, which he could clearly tell was the ornately decorated one.

He moved in, directing his spear ahead.

"Stay back, savage." the Captain shouted as he tensed his grip.

Zugrug gasped as he noticed the Orc the Captain had held in his arm—knife held underhanded and tensed against her throat—was in fact, his sister.

"Know it?" the man asked, referring to the woman. "I could hardly tell… you all look alike to me."

"Let her go!" Zugrug growled in a deep earthy tone as he pointed the spear at the man.

The Captain pulled the knife tighter, drawing a faint line of blood. "Wouldn't make me angry, beast!"

"Bastard..."

The man chuckled slightly. "Now, move to the other side as I move for the exit." he ordered.

Zugrug did his dance, and with the spear still at his right, he moved to the other side.

"Good, you have remarkable intelligence for one as disgusting as your kind are."

"I must say the same for you."

The Captain growled but wasted no more of his dwindling time on further argument.

"The spear, cast it aside. Now!"

Zugrug smirked and turned, tossing the spear to his left.

"Stupid Orc." the Captain murmured as he retracted the dagger before plunging it downward above her right breast

She screamed in pain, Zugrug screamed in anger, and the man laughed as he turned and bolted.

Zugrug ran to her, inspecting her injury.

"Go, catch him, Brother!" she heaved. "I will endure until your return!"

He nodded, knowing in truth he could never let that man escape. He grabbed the man's sword, a finely decorated and ceremonial tool of the Light, and charged out in fast pursuit.

The Captain ran as fast as his old legs could carry him as he went, looking back only once.

That was his downfall.

Zugrug barreled into him, knocking the weakened man to his stomach. He tried then, to crawl away from the Orc, but suddenly, a massive boot pressed hard against his back, forcing him to the mud and to take in labored breaths. He planted his hands under him, trying to fight back, to push up, but shortly, he felt two more boots, as more Orcs joined their leader and forced him to the mud.

"It would seem the animals have won."

"Pure luck, no creature as ugly as you could have the tactical genius that won me so many battles!"

Zugrug bent over, retrieving the knife the Captain had used to stab his sister. He then passed it to the Orc at his side.

"Sir, you see, Taruta here was supposed to marry my sister before you took her, and he's been waiting to find the scum that did that."

"I'll show you animalistic!" The burly woodsmen of an Orc reached down, and hoisted up the Captain by his throat. "Are you scared of me, human?"

The Captain spit in his face.

"I know," Zugrug began. "That all human's are not like this one. I will take this holy blade you must have stolen and I will treat it with the honor it merits." He started to leave, to return to his sister. He turned his head back over his shoulder. "Make it quick, Taruta."

Suddenly, the Captain could no longer breathe as the Orc's vice tightened, and began to shake. Zugrug had moved out of sight, and Taruta knew he would be attending to his love.

"What is that, human? Do you want air?"

He palmed the knife in his left hand, and shoved in into the man's chest, cutting open his lung.

"Enjoy it." he remarked as he let the man drop to the mud, leaving him to bleed out, his blood mingling with the earth.

"How is she?" Taruta asked as he reached his hopefully future brother-in-law.

"She is hurt badly," he answered. "We must take her to Thrall's shaman immediately!"

Taruta moved to her side.

"I have bound the wound for now, but that will not do." Zugrug explained.

"Will it last till I reach Thrall's encampment?" Taruta asked, hope in his eyes.

"I do not know, but you should hurry all the same. It might."

"Don't fear, I will save your sister!" he said as he lifted her limp form into his massive, protecting arms.

"Make haste and good luck, Brother."

Zugrug stood there in the encampment as the dawn broke over the distant hills, the rays of the sun more beautiful than he ever remembered as they cascaded over the fields and burrows. In the distance behind him he saw smoke rise from what he knew were more encampments of human slavers. And merely moments previous, news came to him in the form of a wolf, that the shaman's had saved his sister's life.

"Yesterday was dark, it was terror, it was fear."

"Today is bright, it is cheer, it is safety."

"Tomorrow is brighter still, and more cheers shall sound, as we make this world safe for ours."

The verse was an old one, passed on by those first enslaved. It was a chant of hope; it was a chant of light.

Zugrug slid the sword on his back, allowing it to rest where his recent axe previously had. He turned then to the young Orc to his side. It was the same one whom had saluted him, and had brought him news from their Warchief just the night before.

"Rest in peace, my friend." He mumbled as he laid his hand over the Orc's lifeless eyes.

He then climbed the tower of the encampment, reaching the top where he lowered the blue standard of the human's nation. He then raised another, stained in the blood of Orc and Human alike; it was the darkest crimson, a black symbol painted in the middle.

"For the Horde!" he shouted out, his voice booming far into the hills surrounding.

Hills he could one day walk, as the free man he then was.


End file.
